Friday, 2 October 2009

Uncle, uncle he cried as he ran behind meWhen I turned around, a small child did I seeHe pointed to a fireworks stall and asked me to visit it pleaseI frowned in the gentle autumn breeze

I’ve already brought my fireworks I said roughly I don’t need anymoreI turned around and walked away never seeing the tears that did flowI didn’t even known his name was Ramesh, his age was seven, I didn’t careBut at night peacefully I slept after my dinner and a prayer

In my dreams I walked in his shoesGod’s way to help me chooseHe was only sevenWhen his Father left them

How he cried when he worked his first day in the cracker factoryHow day and night he slumped into bed in a hungry and exhausted sleepHow he worked for twelve hours non stopHow he was made to exert till from exhaustion he dropped

How did fate deal him such a bad handThis is something Ramesh will never understandHere we cry if we don’t get into McDonalds and for money is what we prayRamesh would be lucky to get a Sunday off and a square meal a day

There was a fire in his factory which almost burnt him to deathBrave lad, he never weptSimply got salves on his hand to stop the pain for a whileStarted working the next day but he couldn’t smile

He sees many men getting rich off his hard workIs their any justice in the world?

So many children like Ramesh are made to work in the Sivakasi fireworks factory, this Diwali remember them before you light a fire cracker, it may have been made with their hard work, the profits of which they will never see in their life time because it will be swallowed by greedy business men and fat politicians.

About the mag

Ancient Heart Magazine is here again! Now based in Sydney, Australia. After a number of years of publication I decided a while ago to give it a miss. But, poetry being poetry, I couldn't keep away and now here we are again; all new and bright and fresh. In a slightly different format, namely that of the blog.

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Some articles on this blog format may be partly or wholly sponsored by third parties. The editor will commit himself to retaining the relevant characteristics of the poetry magazine as much as possible at all times.